Self-love or otherwise.

Self-love or otherwise.

Your first attempt at love
teaches you true love.
The ‘I’ve got to make this work’ kind,
the innocent, ‘vanilla is the best’ kind,
the unconditional, ‘always? always.’ kind.
For me, the girl was a reincarnation
of everything I had ever loved.
There were no terms and conditions,
no warnings,
and we didn’t take steps one day at a time.
Our bed was a cosmic sky of fairly dust
and we didn’t need hope.
There were a few fights
here on text messages
there on WhatsApp statuses,
but all was good forever
till one day it wasn’t.

Broken things stay.

Broken things stay.

I love personifying things that matter in our lives. I’ve done it with Heaven and Hell, with Time, and now this. Poetry and love has to be two of the most important things on that list. So yeah, here’s my attempt that making Poetry and Love just like you and me. Comment below and give me prompts! Enjoy!

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Poetry was a twenty year old,
5’7”, super shy but very flirty.
His escape from reality was through metaphors and similes.
“They are the shoulders I choose to cry on,”
he said all the time.
He loved red flowers, beaches, cliches,
and some of the weird things too,
like having Pizza on mountains.